


Ceaseless Memory

by romanticalgirl



Series: Yearbooks [1]
Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 12:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joey and Pacey weren't the first Witter and Potter siblings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ceaseless Memory

"Hey Potter."

Bessie looked up from her English book and made a face. "Hey, Doug." 

"How goes the studying?" 

She tossed the book on the grass in front of her. "I speak English. Shouldn’t that be good enough?" 

He sank down on the ground beside her, picking up the textbook. "Why do you do that?" 

"What?" She took the book from his hand and sighed. "Vent my frustrations on unassuming school property?" 

"No, Bessie. Put yourself down." 

"Asks the boy wonder." She smirked. "You forget, Douglas. We can’t all be Capeside’s golden child." 

"Let’s not get carried away." He looked at her shyly. "You want help studying?" 

"And what would I have to do for you?" She watched as he tried to look offended, smiling at his pathetic attempt. "Come on, Witter. I know you too well. There’s always a catch." 

"Manual labor," he admitted with a grin. "Dad’s hosting the annual Capeside Policeman’s picnic this year. I got roped into helping out." 

"You volunteered, in other words." 

"Yeah." 

"And why do you need my help?" 

"Well," he looked down at the ground before turning his blue eyes on her. "I sort of volunteered us both." 

"Why am I not surprised." Bessie sighed again and got off the ground. "You’re more trouble than you’re worth, Witter." 

"Oh, and if you want to bring Joey, you can. Pacey and Dawson are supposed to be there too." 

"Because I want the joy of looking after my eleven year old sister to go along with the agonizing torture of having to spend the day with you." 

"I thought you liked spending the day with me." 

"Only in your dreams." Bessie watched him stand, hoping that he wouldn’t notice the way she admired him. His body was well put together and completely off limits. They’d been friends for as long as she could remember – and even closer since she’d come one test away from failing English and biology and he’d been assigned as her tutor. 

He never made her feel stupid, which was something she was grateful for. And, as distracting as he was when he lounged on the couch with her wearing tight jeans and a tight T-shirt, she was actually doing okay in all of her classes. 

"Nightmares, maybe." He shouldered his backpack and started walking, falling in step with her easily. "So, you’ll help, right?" 

"I suppose. I don’t have much else to do." She walked casually, her hand at her side, swinging in unison with his. She wondered sometimes, if he would ever reach out for it, wondered if he ever thought of her that way. Wondered if she was delusional for thinking someone like Doug Witter – handsome, smart, a guy with a real future, would ever look twice at someone like her. Bessie Potter, the girl from the wrong side of the creek. Underachiever, social outcast, one of the worst students ever known to frequent the halls of Capeside High. Right. She was exactly the kind of girl Doug would be looking for. 

Frowning to herself, she pulled her hand back up to her chest, cradling her books against it. Doug watched her movements out of the corner of his eye, a soft sigh of disappointment leaving him, as she seemed to close up. "You need someone to pick you up?" 

"Nah. We’ll manage." She cast another sidelong glance at him. "But…"

He grinned and looked her way. "What?" 

"Well, I’ve got this paper to write for English." 

"Yeah?" 

"And to actually do a decent job on it, I probably should have read the book." 

His grin widened into a smile. "Probably, Potter." 

"It’s due tomorrow." 

"What book?" 

"The Great Gatsby." She stopped walking and faced him. "So, if you’re not busy…I’ll treat you to dinner at the Ice House and you can fill me in on all of the intricacies of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s dazzling masterpiece." 

"One of these days, Bessie, you’re actually going to need some of this knowledge." 

"So I’ll have to keep you around." She looked toward the school as the bell rang. "Okay. I’m off to fail another quiz. I’ll see you tonight?" 

"Sure." Doug watched her walk away, taking a deep breath. Bessie Potter was off limits. She was his friend, and dating friends was a recipe for trouble. 

She walked into the building, turning at the last minute to wave at him. He waved back and forced himself to head toward his car. Off limits. 

Which made him want her even more. 

~**~

"Do you think fratricide is still illegal?" Doug sank down onto a stool at the counter. Bessie turned and smiled, setting an iced tea in front of him. "Because I think it should be acceptable in the more civilized states." 

"Pacey driving you crazy?" 

"Pacey always drives me crazy. I swear, the kid’s got a knack for finding trouble. He’s like a magnet for every wrong thing that can happen. I’d say he does it on purpose, but I don’t think anyone has that big of a death wish." 

"What did he do this time?" 

"What didn’t he?" Doug sighed and absentmindedly stirred sugar into his tea. "He got in a fight with Dad. He dropped the packages of hamburgers on the ground outside the house, a large number of which were promptly eaten by the neighbor’s dog. He nearly fell on the cake and he misplaced my father’s gun. Actually, I don’t think he misplaced it so much as hid it after all the other stuff happened." 

"Your dad’s kind of hard on him." 

"He’s hard on all of us." Doug’s face closed up for a minute and he looked down at the menu. "Some of us just know the best way to deal with it." 

"You can’t all be the number one son." 

"I don’t want to be the number one son," Doug stated flatly. "I just want a little peace." 

Bessie moved away from him, grabbing her order pad. "I’ll be right back." She walked over to a table, helping some people who had come in right after Doug. He refused to watch her, refused to let himself. It was just stupid to wear his heart out on her. 

"You ready to order?" 

He looked up, surprised at the man standing in front of him. "What?" 

"Order?" He was a tall, black man that Doug had never seen before. "That’s what people do in restaurants, or so I’m told. You come, you read the menu, you order from it and hope to get something resembling the item described. It usually doesn’t work that way, but that’s because advertising is misleading. So, would you like me to recommend the most misleading or the least?" 

"Who are you?" 

"Bodie." He held out his hand. "And you’re Doug, right?" 

"Doug. Right." 

Bodie grinned. "Nice to meet you. The kid, she talks about you all the time." 

"Kid?" Doug was having difficulty following the conversation. "Joey?" 

"Joey? Nah. Bessie. She talks about you. You’re the guy who’s helping her in school, right?" 

"Right. Who are you again?" Doug looked over at Bessie, laughing with Pacey’s friend Dawson’s parents. "And how do you know Bessie?" 

"I work here. I’m here for the summer while I’m on a break from cooking school. The Potters hired me to help out. And I know Bessie because she’s the Potter’s daughter." 

"Right." Doug looked back at him. "What?" 

"Never mind. You hungry?" 

"Yeah." Doug tried to ignore the look he saw Bodie give Bessie. It was a hungry look, a soft longing that he didn’t like. Didn’t want to see. "I’ll have some clam chowder." 

"That it?" 

"Yeah." Bessie walked up and sat beside him. "I get off work in a half hour. You’ll stick around?" 

"How long has he been working here?" 

"About two weeks." 

"Why didn’t you mention him?" 

Bessie felt the beginning of a smile lift the corners of her mouth. "Because I didn’t think you’d care. He’s just summer help." 

"Do you like him?" 

"He’s a college guy, Doug. I’m not college guy material." She bumped her arm against his. "Heck, so far I haven’t even been high school guy material." Sighing, she hopped off the stool. "So, where do you want to study great literature?" 

"We could go by your house. Sit on the dock?" 

"Could." She nodded and picked up her order pad as more guests walked in. "Joey’s at Dawson’s all night so she won’t be around to bother us. You wanna stick around, or you want to just meet me there?" 

"I’ll wait." He noticed Bodie coming out of the kitchen. "Besides, I’ve got to sample the new cook’s haute cuisine." 

Bodie grinned. "Yeah. I’m all cordon bleu at Capeside." He set the bowl in front of Doug with a flourish. Waiting until Bessie had moved off out of earshot, he leaned closer to Doug. "So, she your girlfriend?" 

"No." Doug dunked his spoon into the thick chowder. "And I really don’t feel like talking about Potter with you." 

"Potter?" Bodie nodded. "You’ve got it bad, don’t you?" 

Sighing, Doug faced the other man. "Is there some point to this? Because I’m trying to eat in peace. If I wanted to be annoyed to death while I ate, I’d be at home. So you think I could just enjoy my soup without your hovering?" 

Bodie spread his arms in surrender. "Sure. Just…well, you probably don’t want to hear it." 

"Hear what?" 

"She’s a pretty girl, Doug. It’s summertime. That means all those college boys swoop down on the local populace, find the pretty girls and steal ‘em away from the hometown boys." 

"You’re a college boy." His voice was tight, cold and controlled as he met the other man’s eyes. "Aren’t you, Bodie?" 

Bodie’s smile took on a knowing smirk. "Yes sir, I am." 

~**~

Doug stood by the front door of the Ice House, watching as Bessie tugged her apron over her head. She was laughing at something Bodie was saying, waving goodbye to her parents as she grabbed her books from the counter. 

Great. 

The college guy makes her laugh, and he was stuck teaching her the classics. He was beginning to resent being her best friend, being the guy without mystery. She turned and saw him, smiling as she started in his direction. 

"Hey, Witter." She linked her arm through his. "Shall we go delve into the roaring 20’s?" 

"You actually know when the story’s set? I’m proud of you, Potter." He led her to the truck he’d borrowed from his father and opened the door for her. "This may be easier than I thought." 

"I wouldn’t count on it." She snapped her seatbelt in place and looked at him through lowered lashes. "I have plans of keeping you up all night, Mr. Witter." 

"Really?" He smiled, a hungry edge to it. "Should I call my parents and let them know that I’m spending the night with you?" 

"How do you think that would go over with the local constabulary?" Bessie flipped through her copy of The Great Gatsby. "I tried reading it this afternoon. It’s…not my thing." 

"What is your thing?" 

"You’ll laugh." 

"I won’t laugh." 

"You will." She shrugged. "I’m more the torrid romance novel type. You know, the kind of thing they make cheesy movies of the week about, only with all the sex happening off camera? That’s what I read." 

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"Really." She sighed and looked out her window. "You disappointed?" 

"Never." 

She laughed softly as he pulled up beside their house. "My dad’s out of town tonight. Do you want to go inside or do you want to go down to the dock?" 

"Depends. Do you trust yourself with me alone in the house?" He turned off the truck and put his hand down on the seat, feeling a hot rush run through him as his hand brushed hers. "Or are you going to give yourself over to one of those torrid romance novel moments and seduce me?" 

"You really should see someone about these delusions you’re having, Doug." Bessie pulled her hand from his, trying to ignore the blood pounding through her system, throbbing in her ears. "They have very skilled doctors to address just these problems." 

"Very funny, Potter." He grabbed her books as well as his own and got out of the truck. She unlocked the door to the house. 

"You want anything?" 

You, his body cried out silently. He shook his head. "No. I’m good." 

"Sure? I’m going to have a Coke." 

"No. I’m good, really." He watched as she bent over, grabbing a soft drink out of the refrigerator. He barely suppressed the low groan as her jeans pulled over the soft curves of her body. Bessie looked back, feeling his hot gaze. Her eyes met his and held, and she turned slowly. Setting the can on the table, she walked silently back to the couch and stood in front of him. 

Doug kept his eyes locked on hers. She moved even closer, straddling his legs before sinking down onto his lap. There was electricity in the air, the charged atmosphere around them crackling. "Doug?" Her voice came out trembling and throaty, seductive. 

"Y…yeah, Potter?" He raised his hand, surprised to find it shaking. He pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear before burying his fingers in the dark mass. 

"Tell me about The Great Gatsby." 

He opened his mouth, unsure of what words to form. She gave him no chance, her lips finding his, her tongue sliding into his mouth as her hands raked through his short, dark locks. He gasped; taking her breath from her as his hands curved around her hips and pulled her hard against his body. 

Her fingertips scraped his scalp, tilting his head back so that she could control their kiss, control him. He moved his hips, falling into a natural rhythm as he ground up into her, the fabric whisper of denim on denim filling the silence. 

Doug pulled back, searching her eyes. Bessie was gasping for air and control, finding neither as he looked at her. She could read the desire in his eyes, see the feeling there as he let his hands move up her torso until they cupped her breasts through her thin shirt. He cleared his throat quietly. "Bessie?" 

She kissed him again, softly this time. Sliding off his lap, she noted all of his reactions to her. The disappointment as she pulled away, the desire as he looked at her. The obvious arousal that she’d left him with. He bent his head, hiding from her gaze. 

One kiss. 

One amazing kiss and it had changed everything. Never mind that she had instigated it. Never mind that he hadn’t refused. It changed everything. One kiss and he’d just lost his best friend. 

"Doug?" 

He wouldn’t raise his eyes. "What?" 

Bessie reached down for his hand and tugged on it, forcing him to stand. "Come on." 

"Where are we…?" He followed her lead as she walked from the room toward the hall. 

"I’d like to study in private." She stopped and met his eyes. Everything he’d always wanted to see was there. Everything he was afraid to see. "I was hoping you could…explain the book to me in a little more detail." 

He hadn’t finished nodding before she’d closed her bedroom door behind them. 

~**~

He’d been in her room more times than he could remember. He’d spent a hundred Saturdays next to her on her bed, trying to explain osmosis and dissection. He’d sat beside her memorizing vocabulary words. But he’d never honestly expected to be here with her. 

Not like this. 

She leaned back against the door, watching him flounder. He turned to her, searching for some sort of guidance in the darkness. The soft glow of the moon lit the room with a silvery kind of menace and he took a tentative step toward her. 

"I…" He took a deep breath and let it out. "Bessie, I…"

"Shh." She stepped forward and pressed a finger to his lips. She shook her head as she kept moving, stopping only when she was pressed up against him. She stared into his wide blue eyes. "We talk all the time, Doug. Couldn’t you just kiss me now?" 

He nodded once before wrapping his arms around her, meeting her lips with his own. His whole body was on fire with longing, aching from this moment of fantasy coming true. Her body was soft and pliant, filling his roaming hands as they explored her body, finding the curve of her hips and the soft swell of her buttocks. He groaned, bringing her body closer, needing to find relief for the relentless ache. 

Bessie kissed him, her tongue delving into his mouth, tasting him. She moved slowly, guiding him with small steps to the edge of the bed. The back of Doug’s legs hit the mattress and he stumbled. Bessie held him, not letting him fall. 

Breaking the kiss, she helped him sink down onto the bed. Going down on her knees, she smiled up at him. He was trembling, his whole body shaking. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch with a soft smile. "Have you…?"

His mouth tightened into a thin line and he looked away. "No." 

"Really?" 

"No, I’m lying. Because I heard being inexperienced is a big turn on for girls." He could feel the telltale blush staining his cheeks and he hated it. He hated her. 

She grabbed his chin and forced him to look at her. Her own eyes were wide with wonder. "It is." 

"What?" 

She kissed him softly, barely brushing his lips with her own. "A turn on." 

He bit the inside of his lower lip, a million questions in his eyes. "Have you?" 

"Once or twice." 

"Anyone I know?" 

"College boy. Last summer," she shrugged. "I’m not exactly proud of it. Wasn’t a big Dirty Dancing moment, if that’s what you’re wondering." 

"I’m sorry." 

She pulled back, "Sorry?" 

"That it wasn’t perfect. You deserve perfect." He leaned toward her, his breath warm as it caressed her face. "You deserve everything, Potter." 

"You gonna give it to me?" 

He nodded, wondering when the shaking had stopped or even if it had. He still felt as if he was sitting on a roller coaster, poised at the top of a huge hill, waiting to tumble over the edge. He brushed her lower lip with his thumb then kissed her, catching it between his teeth for a short time as he pulled away. "I figure you owe me a little tutoring for all the work I’ve done with you." 

She grinned and the tension that had permeated the evening seemed to dissipate into the soft scent of desire. Her hand moved and rested on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart. She could feel the tight tip of his nipple through the thin material of his shirt and she let her thumb swipe over it. 

Doug’s whole body seemed to tighten as she touched him, her whole hand smoothing down his chest. She pushed lightly and he lay back on the bed. Bessie stood up and looked down on him, her eyes warm and full of something he didn’t understand, but he did recognize. 

Her hands went to her shirt and she pulled it off, tossing it aside. Her fingers seemed to shake, although he couldn’t tell if it was real or just some strange reflection of the moon’s light. He lay there, watching her, wanting her as she carefully unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor. 

He sat up then, no longer content to simply watch her. His hands curved around her back and he pulled her to him, placing soft kisses on her abdomen. She smelled different than he’d expected. 

At school, she always had this soft scent of vanilla or something he could never quite place. Gentle and unassuming, with just a hint of audacity. At work, she smelled of vinegar and spices, fish and oil. Now, alone with her in her room, she smelled of warmth and passion all tinged with the scent that he could only define as her. He ran his tongue along the waistband of her jeans and couldn’t help but smile as she let out a soft gasp. 

She smelled of sex and passion, heat and desire. He knew, somewhere deep inside him, that when he thought of her, when he thought of sex this would be the memory that pervaded his senses. This would be the defining moment. 

His teeth caught the denim and he freed the button from its fabric prison. Wanting to see her, he pulled away slightly and glanced up. Her eyes were half closed, hazy with lust. Her hands were on his shoulders and he liked to think he was supporting her. Leaning back into her, he kissed the valley between her breasts before finally allowing himself to turn his attention to the creamy flesh he’d fantasized about. 

His tongue traced the side of her breast, curving over the swell until he found the hard tip. He guided it into his eager mouth, sucking lightly at the taut flesh. Bessie whimpered softly as he nibbled at the tender skin, his teeth tugging gently. 

Doug closed his eyes, his mind going a million miles an hour, slamming into the presence of her with so much force it left him winded. He released the nipple, placing a light kiss on the swollen tip before kissing his way to the other, lavishing the same attention on it. 

Bessie’s fingers dug into his shoulders as she struggled to remain standing. Her legs felt weak and trembly, not strong enough to support her. She made a soft sound and Doug raised his head. His lips seemed swollen in the moonlight and she touched them with tentative fingers. "Doug?" 

He seemed to know what she wanted, what she was asking. He guided her back a few steps, his hands held tightly in hers. He stood; surprised he still could and walked around to the side of the bed, pulling her along behind him. They stared at each other for a long moment, their eyes already making love. Finally, Bessie broke his gaze and grabbed the bottom of his T-shirt, tugging it from the waistband of his pants. 

He brushed her hand aside and pulled his shirt off, flushing as her eyes devoured him. He knew that he looked okay; he worked out to stay in shape for the inevitable fitness test for the police force. But her eyes on him meant more than anything else. Every muscle seemed to cry out for her touch, not caring about a future. Her hand returned to him, back to the smooth skin of his stomach. 

She’d seen him topless before. They’d spent hours at the beach, flirting and playing. But something about the moon on his skin, the silence in the bedroom, broken only by their ragged breathing made it new. She ran her hand over his stomach, up his chest to the hard nipple she’d touched through the material of his shirt. 

Doug caught her hand and held it there. He just looked at her unable to think or wonder at what they were about to do. Slowly, carefully, nervously, he guided her hand down his stomach again until it rested just above his jeans. Bessie smiled languidly, her eyes following her hand down. Even in the pale light, she could see his arousal, could sense his need. She brought her other hand up and carefully unfastened his belt. 

The hiss of leather as it slid from the belt loops sent shivers through both of them. She let it drop to the floor and moved her hands to slip the button free. Once that was done, she paused briefly just toying with the tongue of the zipper. He was watching her so intently, his whole body tense. She took a deep breath and slid it down, the metallic rasp a cacophony in the quiet room. 

Bessie placed a soft kiss along Doug’s collarbone; her tongue tracing the hard line as her fingers pried the denim apart. Opening his jeans, she smoothed her hands to his hips and pushed the material down. 

Doug’s knees trembled as her hands came back up, slipping inside the legs of his boxers to caress his hard thighs. "Oh God, Bess," he breathed, grabbing her hand and pushing them behind her back. 

Her chest brushed his, taut nipples and smooth skin slipping and moving together. He nibbled her earlobe, whispering her name. Releasing her hands, he unzipped her jeans and started to push them down. Kissing his way along her body, his hands guided the denim down her long legs. 

He licked the golden skin between her breasts down to her navel. He paused there, inhaling the sharp scent of her excitement. 

Bessie’s hand wove through his hair, tilting his head back. His blue eyes were smoky with desire, dark with wanting her. She held a hand out to him and he stood. 

He could feel the silk of her panties against his erection, even through the material of his boxers. Taking the hand she still held, Bessie guided it between them, pressing his fingertips to the damp fabric between her thighs. 

Doug groaned, rubbing the material carefully, curling his finger slightly to put pressure on the sensitive skin beneath. 

"Oh," she gasped, quivering from his touch. 

Doug stepped back and looked at her for a long minute, memorizing her curves with a lover’s eye. He hooked one finger between her stomach and the thin, silken panties. With a sly smile, he tugged them down, letting his finger brush the downy hair before he let gravity take over and rid her of them. 

Bessie put one knee on the bed, then slid back, laying herself out in front of him like a sacrifice. 

Doug shed his boxers quickly, eagerly. He wanted – needed – to feel her, needed to know the sensation of his body on hers. He lay beside her, one hand on her shoulder as she turned on her side to face him. He was grateful for the semi-darkness, sure that he was blushing from head to toe. He'd never gone further than kissing any girl and yet here he was, alone with the woman who had captured his heart. "Bess?" 

She shook her head and leaned into him, inhaling him as she brought her lips to his. Her hand moved to his hip and she made small circles on his skin. Her lips toyed with his, small unfulfilling kisses that promised everything and delivered nothing. Her fingers continued moving as she wriggled closer, the tips of her nipples just brushing the skin of his chest. 

Moving down his thigh, Bessie wrapped her hand around his cock, holding him loosely as he tensed. Doug bit his lip hard, struggling for control. Nothing in his fantasies had ever come close to the feel of her skin on him. He thrust forward slightly, forcing her hand along the length of him. Bessie smiled and tightened her grip, moving along him of her own volition. 

A low moan rumbled through Doug as he reached down to stop her hand. He disengaged her grip and used her hand as leverage to push her onto her back. She looked up at him with heated eyes. Shivering from the look, he kissed her stomach then her navel, working his way down to the tangle of hair between her thighs. His breath stirred the silken strands and Bessie parted her legs involuntarily, her own impulses taking over. 

Doug released her hand and moved between her spread legs. He glanced up at her, watching the moonlight play over her skin, caressing her in a way he couldn’t. He let out a shuddering breath and closed his eyes, settling on his stomach. 

His hands shook as he reached out and parted the swollen lips of her labia, carefully separating them. The hard button of her clitoris was swollen with anticipation, flushed red. Her skin glistened in the pale light, tempting him. Moving forward slightly, he let his tongue brush over the nub of her clit. Bessie hissed, arching off the bed then settling back, her body begging him for more. 

Doug captured the tip between his lips, sucking gently. The tip of his tongue danced over the sensitized surface, forcing gasps and moans from the wriggling girl surrounding him. His thumbs held the dark pink flesh apart and he very carefully let one finger run along the length of her opening. 

She was barely breathing; harsh, uneven pants answering his ministrations. Gliding his finger over her once more, he let his teeth barely scrape the skin he was suckling as he slipped a finger inside her welcoming heat. 

Bessie’s nails bit into his shoulder as he penetrated her, moving his fingers in a smooth, slow rhythm. He listened to her reactions, gauging his movements by her body’s responses. She was a mass of movement, thrashing and moaning as he filled her with another finger, carefully stroking the slick walls of her willing body. 

"Oh…oh Doug," she breathed and he felt the warm rush of moisture as she seemed to collapse around him. He stilled his fingers for a long second before moving them again. She shuddered and ground down against his hand and tongue until she cried out once more and came to a tremulous stop. 

He moved back, releasing her reluctantly. Bessie’s eyes were closed, a sated half-smile on her face. He knelt between her legs, wanting her more than he’d ever wanted anything. "Bessie?" 

She opened her eyes languorously. "Yes?" 

His heart felt as if it might burst with longing. She was giving him the look he’d longed to see for as long as he could remember. A look of love and lust and wanting and…everything. It was all there and more. "I…this is…I…"

She tilted her head, confusion joining all the other emotions until she realized what he wanted. "Oh. I’ve…I’ve got something." She twisted slightly so that she could reach her bedside table and pulled open the drawer. Digging around, she found what she wanted and handed him a small, silver square. 

Doug stared at it with a mixture of relief and dread. Somewhere inside himself, he’d almost hoped that she wouldn’t be prepared so that this moment could be perfect without the fear of doing everything horribly wrong. 

"You’ve never…?" She nodded and sat up without waiting for his answer. Taking the packet from him, she opened it carefully and removed the condom. "It’s easy. They made it that way, since it’s normally the stupid high school kids that have sex instead of studying." 

"So why are we here?" He tried to joke, but the words sounded strange, even to his own ears. 

"Because I may not have all the book learning, but I know a good thing when I see it." She smiled at him as she placed the condom on the head of his penis. "You just put it over the tip." Her voice dropped into some low, seductive place he didn’t even know she possessed. "And you…" She demonstrated without words, sliding the sheath over him, her hand stroking him as she did so. The slippery texture of the lubricant coupled with the warmth of her hand sent another rush of blood directly to the already hard shaft and he moaned. "And Doug?" 

She lay back, her body inviting. "Ye…yes?" 

"You’re a very good thing." Her hand grasped him once again, guiding him to her opening. She pressed the tip of his erection past the swollen flesh and arched her hips slightly. He let his hands fall to her hips and he grabbed them, easing his way inside her. 

He wasn’t sure who made the noise, the soft whimpering sound of fulfilled longing, but he felt it to his core as she surrounded him, enveloped him. She was wet and slick, warm and willing as he pushed into her, the tight muscles clamping around him. He placed his hands on either side of her and rolled his hips, getting used to being held so completely. 

Bessie bent her knees, wanting him deeper. He seemed to understand instinctively and he pushed into her, harder and faster, pumping his hips with hers. They thrust together, meeting and demanding with their bodies. Muscles contracted and tightened, skin grew slick with exertion and excitement, limbs intertwined and ached with built up tension. 

She ground against him, thrusting hard as she felt another orgasm building in her. She wanted to drown with him in pleasure. Doug panted harshly, his fingers digging into the comforter on her bed as he buried himself inside her, the hot rush of his orgasm overtaking him. 

Bessie felt the heat through the thin latex and cried out her impatience. Doug kept thrusting, sitting up slightly and grabbing her hips once again. He pulled her hard against him, using just the muscles in his thighs to control their strokes. She threw her head back and screamed silently as he pushed her over the edge. 

Neither of them moved, save for the trembling aftereffects. Finally, Doug eased out of her, careful to hold onto the condom. He disposed of it quickly, taking the tissues that Bessie handed him and wrapping it up before he tossed it in her trash can. Done, he stood by the side of the bed and looked down at her. 

"What now?" he asked softly. 

"What do you want to happen now?" Her voice had a certain edge to it, a fear that always laced her tone when she was nervous or scared. 

"I want to do that again, a hundred times." He grinned and sat down beside her. "Maybe not all tonight, mind you." His hand moved to her stomach, stroking it softly. "I…I…you don’t…have a boyfriend, do you?" 

She laughed. "No. No boyfriend." 

"Not that college guy at the Ice House?" 

"Bodie?" She wrinkled her brow. "Nah. He’s not my type." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah." She grabbed his hand and pulled him down so that he was lying on top of her. "I like my men in high school." 

"So there’s a guy you like?" 

"There’s a guy," she nodded as he traced her lips with a gentle finger. 

His blue eyes met hers and he got lost in the riot of color. "Anyone I know?" 

"Maybe." 

"But he’s not your boyfriend?" 

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "No. He’s not." 

Doug nodded and grinned as he bent his head to kiss her. "Do you want him to be?" 

~**~

Joey stomped hard on Pacey’s back. She glared down at him. "Stand still," she whispered vehemently. 

He turned his head and gave her a dirty look, but stopped moving. His hands and knees sank into the cool dirt outside the Potter’s house and, more specifically, outside Bessie’s window. "What’s going on up there, Potter?" 

"Nothing." She jumped down and slumped to the ground beside him. "They’re asleep, papers and stuff all over." She sighed, disappointed. She’d hoped that Bessie and Doug would be doing…something. She wanted to catch her sister doing something wrong to pay her back for telling their parents that Joey had a crush on Dawson. 

Plus, if Bessie liked Doug, she might marry him, and then Pacey would be her brother. Which, after she married Dawson, would be perfect. The three musketeers, together forever. 

She picked up a clump of dirt and broke it apart in her hand. Pacey’s parents had been too busy to pick him up at Dawson’s, so he’d rowed over with her to get a ride home with Doug. She looked up as Pacey stood. "What’cha doin’?" 

Pacey grabbed the windowsill and used his arm strength to pull himself up. His bare toes pressed hard against the wall for leverage and he peered into the room. 

Sleeping? What kind of wimp was his brother, anyway? Even at eleven, Pacey was pretty sure that when you spent the night alone with a teenage girl, you didn’t sleep. His eyes adjusted to the dim light just as his brother pulled himself up on one elbow and looked down at Bessie. His eyes seemed different as he watched her, his hand stroking her stomach. 

Pacey tilted his head slightly as Doug leaned forward and kissed her. Bessie’s hand snaked around his neck and she pulled him down on top of her. With wide eyes, Pacey dropped back onto the ground and looked over at Joey. 

He’d never kissed a girl. Never really wanted to, certainly not his second best friend in the whole wide world. But something about the way Doug and Bessie seemed to melt into one another made him look at Joey with new eyes. 

"What are you staring at, Pacey?" Joey stood up and brushed the dirt from her backside. "Do I have gum in my hair? Did you and Dawson put gum in my hair?" Her voice rose slightly and she shoved him, sending him toppling to the ground. She straddled him and started slapping his arms, giggling loudly as he fought back, both of them a tangle of too long limbs that they had yet to grow in to. 

Pacey managed to grab her hands and forced her onto her back as he rolled over on top of her. "Say uncle." 

"In your dreams, Pacey." She struggled against his stronger grip, wriggling her body in an effort to throw him off. 

"Say it, Potter." He grinned and leaned closer, staying just out of reach of her teeth. 

"Bite me…Pacey." She grunted softly, pushing against him. Pacey’s eyes narrowed and he grinned. Releasing one of her hands, he caught her chin with his hand, not caring that he was smudging her clear skin with dirt, and turned her head to the side. He bit softly on the skin of her neck, careful not to leave any marks. 

Joey froze, her brown eyes wide with shock. Pacey’s own eyes were surprised, and he pulled back quickly. "I…sorry." 

He clambered off of her, kicking up dirt with his bare feet. Joey sputtered and shook it off of her, getting to her feet and stepping away from him. "You bit me." 

"You told me to." 

"You…" She glared at him, launching herself at him. She caught him around the midsection and tackled him to the ground, this time punching him wherever her fists could connect. Pacey let her hit him for the longest time, until she shifted positions and pinned him in the groin with her knee. 

He groaned and shoved her off of him, not caring where she fell. "Shit, Jo." He was panting, trying to ignore the pain. "What’d you do that for?" 

"What?" She was on the ground, trying to catch her breath. "What did I do?" 

"Nothin’." Pacey walked away from her, heading for the front porch. "Do you think your mom’s gonna make breakfast?" 

"You’re going to the picnic in like…a hour." Joey hadn’t quite grasped all the nuances of time, but she knew it was fairly sure it was going to be about that long. "You’re like a pit. A bottomless pit." 

"I have a nice bottom." 

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and I’m sure one of the girls at school will notice you one day, when you’re not a pathetic loser." She watched him walk around the corner of the house before getting to her feet. Fighting with Pacey made her heart beat faster, made her feel more alive. "Not that *that’s* gonna happen." 

"You wait, Jo." Pacey peeked around the corner of the house. "One day, you’re gonna look at me and go, damn, that Pacey Witter is one mighty nice lookin’ man." 

"Right. And on that day, the world will explode." 

"Well," he grinned devilishly. "You know what would happen if the world exploded?" 

She narrowed her eyes, not trusting him as she walked forward. "What?" 

He pulled the hose from behind his back and sprayed her full in the face. "Tidal wave!!!" 

"Pacey!" She spluttered, heading for his quickly retreating figure at a dead run, "You are sooooooo dead!" 

~**~

Bessie watched out the window as Joey took off after Pacey. She shook her head and leaned back against Doug’s warm chest. "They’re either going to kill each other one of these days or…"

"Fall head over heels." He kissed the side of her neck. "Did we used to fight like that?" 

She pulled away and poked him in the stomach, her mind filled with images of the smooth, hard surface. "We still do." 

He was about to respond when the bedroom door burst open and Pacey, dripping water and mud, dashed in. He grabbed his brother around the waist and hid behind him. He looked over at Bessie. "Man, that sister of yours is completely psycho." 

Doug grabbed him by the collar and drug him back around in front of him. Shoving him, he sent him careening directly into Joey. The two of them fell into a heap. 

Joey pushed Pacey off of her. "Hey!" 

"Go change, Joey." Bessie walked over and helped her sister stand. "We’re going over to the Witters’ to help out at the picnic. And give Pacey a pair of Dad’s shorts or something. He looks like you tried to drown him in the creek." 

"I did." Joey smiled proudly before stomping out of the room, not looking in Pacey’s direction. He glared after her, his arms crossed over his chest. 

"Your sister is…" Pacey glared at Doug and Bessie then followed Joey down the hall, muttering under his breath and leaving a trail of creek sludge behind him. 

"Pacey! Be sure to clean up your mess so that Mrs. Potter doesn’t have to." Doug smiled apologetically at Bessie. "I’m pretty sure this is exactly what they mean when they talk about the beautiful morning after, right?" 

Bessie smiled, slow and seductive. "I’ve never actually had a morning after, so I’d have to say this is a pretty good one." She moved closer to him, about to kiss him again when Joey’s scream brought her to a halt. "I’m going to kill them." 

Doug shook his head and started for the door. "Oh no, please. Let me." 

~**~

The ride over to the Witter house was completely silent. Doug and Bessie had both glanced back at their siblings the minute one of them opened their mouth, so Joey and Pacey had resigned themselves to making faces at one another. 

When they reached the house, Doug opened the back door and pointed at the front door. "Both of you. Out. And I hear one word out of either of you for the rest of the afternoon, I’ll tie you both up and throw you in the creek together." 

The two kids slunk out of the car and disappeared into the house. Bessie climbed out herself and moved over to Doug’s side, taking his hand a little nervously. "So…what do we do?" 

"Hmm?" 

"About us? What do we do? How do we act? Are you…?" She sighed, unsure and uncomfortable. "Are you my boyfriend? I mean, I know you asked last night, but I don’t want to presume here. This is the real world with parents and responsibilities. I mean, if you want to walk away, I’ll completely understand." 

"You would?" Doug’s voice was soft, tinged with hurt. 

"No." Bessie grinned and squeezed his hand. "I’d probably want to kill you." 

Doug leaned over and kissed her, his lips lingering so that he could taste the minty warmth of her mouth. "Good," he breathed. 

"Doug?" 

He pulled back. "Hey dad. You remember Bessie, right?" 

"Right." Mr. Witter stepped into the yard and held out his hand. "You’re Mike Potter’s kid, aren’t you?" 

"Yes, sir." Bessie shook his hand, wondering if she looked as nervous as she felt. "And my little sister Joey is…"

"The little hellion that keeps Pacey on his toes." Mr. Witter laughed, his tone letting Bessie know that he actually liked her sister. "And believe me, that kid needs it." 

"Pacey’s a nice kid," Bessie started. 

"Yeah. But he’s no Doug, is he?" He wrapped his arm around his son’s shoulders, effectively pulling him away from Bessie. "Come on and help your old man get the back yard set up. Bessie, could you help out in the kitchen?" He looked back and gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "That’s where the other women folk are." 

"Of course, Mr. Witter." 

Bessie walked into the kitchen, feeling very out of place. An older woman turned around and smiled at her. "Hello Bessie." 

"Hi, Mrs. Witter." She smiled; glad that Doug’s mother had remembered her. She hadn’t been over in such a long time. "Doug signed me up for duty, so I’m here to help out." 

"Great. We only had a few of the other officer’s wives and daughters sign up, so we’re a little short handed. I don’t suppose you brought any of the other staff from the Ice House?" 

"Well, I brought my little sister Joey, but I don’t know how much help she’d be." Bessie grabbed an extra apron from the counter. "What would you like me to do?" 

She moved in next to Mrs. Witter, preparing condiments and joining in the general conversation. Doug’s sister Carrie nudged her in the ribs and nodded to the door. "You see her?" 

Bessie looked over at the girl standing in the kitchen doorway. She had long blonde hair that hung past her shoulders and was dressed in an outfit that probably cost more than the entire menu at the Ice House. "Yeah." 

"She’s the mayor’s daughter. She usually is off at some boarding school, but since the mayor’s up for re-election next year, she’s come home to stay. She’s royally pissed about it and taking it out by being petulant and irritating. I’m surprised Mom hasn’t stabbed her with a butcher knife or taken the cutting board to her head." 

Bessie laughed, casting a surreptitious glance in the girl’s direction. "What’s her name?" 

"Adele." Carrie laced the word with all the upper-class snootiness she could. "God, could she be more pretentious? I heard that her real name is Louise." 

Bessie giggled. "I wouldn’t be surprised. She looks like a Louise." 

"After all the plastic surgery she’s had done?" Doug’s sister shook her head. "Honey, now she looks like an Adele." 

"Is she here to help?" 

"Help the common folk? No." She smirked. "She’ll just stand there and look pretty while we work our butts off. Then when it’s time to walk out in front of all the men and eligible bachelors, she’ll put on her apron and pretend she’s been slaving away with the rest of us. Although why she’d want to hook up with one of the lowly men on the police force, I don’t know." 

"Is she a senior?" 

"Nope. Junior. But that’s not going to stop her from sinking her claws into whatever willing man she can find." 

"You really don’t like this girl, do you?" Bessie watched as Adele crinkled her nose at the sight of the hamburger patties. 

"Nope. I walked in on a conversation she was having. She’d used our phone to call one of her boarding school buddies and she was bitching about the lack of culture at Capeside. Now I’m not saying she’s wrong." Carrie smirked good-naturedly. "But it wasn’t a collect call and it was a slap in the face when she didn’t even acknowledge that she was doing something wrong. I mean, I may be here to help serve the crowd, but I’m not here to serve her, you know?" 

"I work in a restaurant that caters to the tourist trade," Bessie reminded her. "I know exactly what you mean." 

"Bessie?" 

Bessie turned at the voice, surprised to see the subject of their conversation standing before her. "Yeah…yes?" 

"I’m supposed to tell you that Doug wants to see you." She smiled, her head tilted slightly to the side. 

"Thanks." Bessie wiped her hands on her apron and smiled at Carrie. "I’ll be right back." 

"Yeah. Just remember your lipstick looks better on you than on my brother." 

Bessie blushed a deep red. "Am I that obvious?" 

"No. I just had to listen to Pacey taunt Doug all day yesterday before they took off. ‘Doug and Bessie sittin’ in a tree…" She grinned. "My brothers excel at being annoying." 

"I think Pacey got it from my sister." 

"Joey? Heck no. She’s great. She actually keeps Pacey in line. I think he’s got a crush on her." 

"They hate each other." 

Carrie nodded. "Yeah. I used to think that about you and Doug, too." 

~**~

Bessie walked toward the living room and the back yard, a tray of vegetables in her hands. She was almost to the sliding glass doors when she heard Doug’s voice. "What?" 

"I want to know what’s going on with you and the Potter girl." She stopped at the sound of Mr. Witter’s voice, moving to the edge of the doors and pushing the curtain slightly so that she could see the two of them standing on the porch. 

"Why?" 

"I’m the one asking the questions here, Doug. Are you dating her? Sleeping with her?" 

"We’re…we’re friends." 

A sharp pain pierced Bessie’s heart. Friends. 

"You looked like more than friends when you showed up today." 

"What’s this all about, Dad?" 

"It’s about image, Doug. You’re the pride and joy of this family. You’re the one who makes up for all the mistakes. Your sisters aren’t much of a concern; they’ll all grow up and get married. But if Pacey’s childhood antics are any indication, you’re the only son I’ve got to carry on the Witter name and tradition." 

Doug’s eyes were focused on the ground, "What are you saying, sir?" 

"Bessie Potter is not the kind of girl you should be associating with." 

"We’re just friends, sir." 

"And that’s fine." John Witter clamped his hand down on his son’s shoulder reassuringly. "Hell, I don’t even care if you sleep with her, so long as you’re careful. Girl like that though…well, she’s probably got that covered." 

Doug tried not to think of the condoms Bessie had in her drawer. "Girl…a girl like that, sir?" 

"We busted up a few football parties last year. She’s spent a night or two sleeping it off, half the time with a blanket wrapped around her, since the arresting officer couldn’t find her shirt." 

"What?" Bessie felt tears sting her eyes as Doug’s shocked gaze locked on his father. She inhaled, refusing to let them fall. She’d gone to one party with a friend, and had taken off her shirt when the star quarterback had vomited on her. She’d been just about to pull a borrowed shirt over her head when the cops had arrived. 

Her parents couldn’t afford to pay the fine, so she’d spent the night in jail. She’d been too embarrassed to tell him, too ashamed at some of the rumors floating around. 

"She’s not that type of girl." Doug said the words, but Bessie could hear the question in them. 

"Right." John Witter looked out over the group of people milling around in their yard. "I may not be the smartest man, Doug, but I’m observant. And I know women. So I’m past the point of reasonable doubt when it comes to knowing that you got laid last night." 

"Dad!" 

"And I’m proud of ya. Always smart to go to someone who knows what they’re doing. But I’ll tell you this, Douglas my boy, Bessie Potter is the kind of girl you screw, not the kind of girl you date." 

"I love her, Dad." 

"I loved my first piece of ass, too." Mr. Witter shook his head. "You’ve got a future to think about, Doug. A career. You go out publicly with someone like Bessie, and you can kiss those things goodbye." 

"Is that a threat, sir?" 

"Hell no, Doug." He laughed flatly. "I’d never threaten you, son." 

Doug looked at his father, hating him. Hating him for what he was implying, for what he was asking. But mostly Doug hated himself for wondering how much of what he said was true. 

"I’m up for some stuff this next year, Doug. And you’re headed for the Academy this fall." 

The Academy. Leaving Capeside. Leaving Bessie, at least for a little while. His father’s not so subtle threat hung in the air between them. 

"Looking successful is the first step to being successful." Bessie caught her breath as Adele joined Doug and Mr. Witter on the back porch. "And the right woman always makes a man look like a success. Doug, meet Adele." 

Her green eyes raked over Doug appreciatively. She nodded, almost to herself, before extending her hand. "Hello Doug." 

"Hello." 

"Your father has told me so much about you." She linked her hand through his. "Although he didn’t mention if you were seeing anyone." 

Doug closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. "No. No I’m not." 

Adele’s eyes seemed fixed on the spot where Bessie was standing just out of sight. "I’m so glad to hear that." Her free hand stroked the hair-roughened skin of his forearm. "Because I was thinking about the junior-senior prom." 

"You were?" Doug’s voice was emotionless as he cursed himself in his head. 

"I was thinking, I’m a junior. And you’re a senior. It would be sort of poetic if we went together, don’t you think?" 

Poetic? Poetry was Bessie’s eyes as she struggled to understand something he was explaining. Poetry was the feel of her hand in his, the feel of losing himself inside her. That was poetry. 

"That would be…" he followed Adele’s rapt gaze, noticing Bessie’s pale reflection in the glass doors. She wasn’t looking at him, her face as still as if carved from stone. "That would be great." He closed his eyes as he spoke the last word. 

When he opened them, Bessie was gone, the curtains swaying in the breeze of her departure. 

~**~

Joey sat uncomfortably between Doug and Pacey. "Where’s Bessie?" 

"She wasn’t feeling well," Doug stated for the fifth time. "She went home hours ago." 

"Why didn’t she tell me? Why didn’t she take me with her?" 

"She knew you were hanging out with Pacey. Besides, your parents are working. She didn’t want to have to watch over you while she wasn’t feeling well." 

Joey crossed her arms over her chest. "Seems weird." 

Pacey looked over Joey’s head at his brother. Something in Doug’s face let him know that now wasn’t the time. "I don’t blame her, Potter. If I could pawn you off on someone else, I’d do it in a heartbeat." 

"Then why don’t you just leave me and Dawson alone?" 

"The guy’s my best friend, Joey. I would be letting him down if I didn’t protect him from your true nature." 

Doug pulled up in front of the Potter’s house. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spied Bessie sitting on the dock. Pacey slid out of the car, holding the door open for Joey. 

"I’ll see you on Monday, Potter." He climbed back in and shut the door. "I can wait here if you want to go talk to her." 

"No." Doug shifted into reverse. "I imagine she doesn’t want to hear anything I have to say." 

"I thought you really liked her," Pacey looked over at his older brother, his blue eyes confused. 

"I do." 

"So what’s wrong?" 

"She’s not the right kind of girl." 

"There’s only one kind of girl," Pacey informed him. "Annoying." 

"There are two kinds of girls." Doug stared straight ahead, traveling the road by memory. "The right kind and the wrong kind." 

"Is Joey the wrong kind too?" 

Pacey’s worried tone brought Doug’s eyes to his little brother. He was hunched in the seat, his arms wrapped protectively around himself. "No, Pace. Joey’s…Joey’s okay." 

"If Joey’s okay, then why isn’t Bessie? Aren’t they the same?" 

"No." 

"Well who says? Bessie’s way nicer than Joey, so shouldn’t she be even better?" 

"Pacey…"

"Who says?" 

"Dad." 

Pacey’s normally expressive face closed down. "Oh." 

"Pace…"

"I don’t know why you always do what he says." 

"He’s our father, Pacey." 

"He’s mean!" Pacey’s voice rose angrily. "Maybe not to you or the girls, but he hates me. And now he hates Bessie, is that it?" Comprehension dawned, turning the innocent blue eyes cynical. "That’s why Joey’s okay, isn’t it? Not because she’s okay, but because she’s okay for the likes of *me*."

"Pacey…"

"I don’t want to hear it." He placed his hands over his ears. "I don’t listen to him, and you’re just like him." 

~**~

Joey sat down beside her sister. "You feeling better?" 

Bessie hastily wiped away her tears. "Yeah." 

"What happened?" Joey was instantly indignant. "Why are you crying?" 

"Go ‘way, Joey." Bessie turned her back to her. 

"Bessie?" 

Tear-filled eyes met Joey’s concerned ones. Bessie managed a weak smile. "Do yourself a favor, Joey. Don’t ever fall in love. It hurts." 

"Who hurt you?" 

"And never, ever fall for your best friend. Because when you do, you lose everything." 

"Please tell me what’s wrong." Joey’s voice took on a frightened edge. "Please?" 

"Jo, I want you to promise me something, okay?" 

She nodded, sad and afraid all at once. "Anything." 

"Study hard. You’re smart, you’re talented. Promise me." Bessie swallowed against her tears, struggling with the lump in her throat. "Don’t be like me, okay Joey?" 

"Stop talking like this, Bessie." Joey got to her feet and glared down at her sister. "You’re smart, Bessie. Maybe your grades aren’t great, but you know all the important stuff." 

Bessie shook her head. "Just promise, Joey. You said you would." 

"I promise." 

"I want you to deserve your golden boy." 

"Bessie?" Joey knelt beside her sister and brushed her hair out of her face. "Bessie, did Doug hurt you?" 

"No, Joey. Doug…" Her voice caught on his name. "Doug just reminded me of something." 

"Of what? What could he remind you of that would make you hurt so badly?" 

"Just something about the creek." 

"The creek?" Joey shook her head, not understanding. "What about the creek?" 

"That I’m very much on the wrong side of it." 

~**~

Doug sighed as Mr. Peterson handed out their papers on The Great Gatsby. He’d done horribly, spending all the time in the class staring at Bessie. 

It have been almost two weeks now since he’d talked to her, since she’d actually looked in his direction, since he’d loved her. 

Peterson dropped his paper in front of him. "Disappointing, Mr. Witter." 

Doug cast a cursory glance at his grade then looked at Bessie’s paper as the teacher dropped it on her desk. The front page was a profusion of red, topped off with a large, circled F. He shook his head and closed his eyes, wishing for the day to end. 

The bell finally rang. Doug waited while everyone gathered their books before heading toward Bessie. She was still sitting in her chair, staring at the paper in front of her. "Bessie?" 

She whipped her head around, nailing him with an angry glare. "Leave me the hell alone." 

"Miss Potter?" Mr. Peterson sat at his desk. "May I see you for a moment?" 

Bessie got up, her whole demeanor stiff. She ignored Doug and walked up to the desk. "Yes, sir?" 

"This paper, you realize what it means to your grade?" 

"Yes." 

"Can you explain what happened?" He gave her a long look. "This is below your usual sub-par work." 

"Don’t worry, Mr. Peterson. I’ll be back up to mediocre in no time." 

"Bessie, whatever this is about, deal with it. I have no reluctance when it comes to flunking you, even if it means spending the next year teaching you everything you should have already learned." 

Bessie could feel Doug’s eyes on her, his disappointment and, no doubt, his vast relief that she was out of his life. "Are we done?" 

Mr. Peterson’s eyes narrowed and he nodded. "Read the book. Write it again." 

"What?" 

"I understand you have a younger sister. I have no desire to suffer through the Potter girls for three years. I’ll average the two grades." 

"I’ll take the F. I don’t need your pity." 

"And you’re not getting it. You’re most likely going to fail the second paper. I’m giving you a chance to prove me wrong. Now go away." 

Bessie turned and went back to her desk, grabbing her books. She continued to ignore Doug, brushing past him without a glance. 

Mr. Peterson waited until she was gone before turning his attention to Doug. "You disappointed me, Mr. Witter." 

"I seem to be doing that a lot lately, sir." He turned and walked out of the room. Heading toward the parking lot, he counted the steps to freedom, just wanting to be away. 

"Doug!" 

He turned, groaning inwardly. Adele hurried up to him and slipped her arm through his. "Hey." 

"Oh! You won’t believe what I just heard." She leaned against him, falling in step easily. "You know Bessie Potter, right?" 

His chest tightened. "Yeah." 

"Well, word is that since last weekend, she’s been…volunteering her services to some of the guys in the locker room. And I don’t mean her waitressing skills, although I do hear she’s been getting some decent tips." 

Doug didn’t comment as his father’s insinuations echoed in his head. 

"And apparently, she’s asked some *college* guy to the prom. I guess no one from town would actually stoop low enough to take out the trash, huh?" 

Jealously lanced through Doug and he pulled away from Adele. "I’ve got some errands to run. I’ll talk to you later?" 

"We have to go get your tux tomorrow. Don’t forget." 

He nodded numbly and climbed into his car. He sat there, unseeing, for a long time. He didn’t want to believe Adele’s words. He wanted to trust in Bessie. Trust his friend. Slipping the keys into the ignition, he started the car and drove. She was…she had been his best friend. Why was it so easy to want to believe the worst about her? 

He heard his father’s voice, talking about the Potter’s, about Mr. Potter. Then he heard Pacey’s voice. Not that he’d heard that lately. The little brother who had worshiped him had been replaced by a sullen, angry smart-ass. 

He parked outside the Ice House and took a deep breath. Bessie walked inside the restaurant, unaware of his gaze, a short apron tied around her waist. 

Doug climbed out of the car and headed for the restaurant. No one was seated inside except Pacey, Joey and Dawson. Bessie stood behind the counter, refilling salt shakers. "You’re sure you should be here?" Her voice was cold. "Someone might get the *wrong* idea." 

He ignored Pacey and his friends, concentrating solely on Bessie. "I just want to talk." 

"What could we possibly have to talk about, Doug? My grades? Your reputation?" She lowered her voice so that only he could hear. "Or maybe about how you dumped me once you got what you wanted?" 

"This isn’t what I wanted." 

She deliberately misunderstood him. "So you didn’t want to sleep with me?" Her bitter laugh cut at him. "Didn’t feel that way to me." She couldn’t help but smirk as his face changed. "And I would know, right? Isn’t that what you’re thinking?" 

Doug started, his eyes seeking hers. "That’s the rumor." 

"Doug, that’s always been the rumor. It’s just that now you hope it’s true." She ignored him as he shook his head. "Because if it’s true, you don’t have to feel bad about what happened. Well, don’t worry Doug. Your secret’s safe with me." 

"I don’t believe any of the rumors, Bessie." 

"Really?" 

"No, I…"

"Doug." Adele walked into the restaurant and headed straight for Doug, struggling not to recoil in distaste for the surroundings. "There you are." 

Doug closed his eyes as she attached herself to him. "I thought…"

"I was getting lonely out there in the car." Her hand moved down his chest, resting just above his belt. "Have you gotten our order yet?" She looked at Bessie and smiled. "Doug and I are going out on his father’s boat. The Reel Action. I’m sure you know what that means. I hear you know all about getting action these days." 

Bessie smiled tightly and turned her attention to Doug. "Can I take your order…Sir?" 

"Actually," Adele tugged at Doug’s arm. "We should eat later, Doug. After we work up an appetite." 

Bessie slipped her order pad back in her apron pocket. "Well, we close at nine." 

~**~

Doug detached Adele from his arm and moved away from her. "What drugs are you on?" 

"None. But I think you need to get yourself up to speed." Adele’s green eyes were flat and cold like a reptile’s. "My father is the mayor. And he control’s your father like a puppetmaster. When he’s happy, Daddy’s a big fan of the status quo." 

Another threat. "I see." 

"And if I’m happy, Daddy’s happy. And right now, you make me happy." 

"Why me?" 

"Why not you?" Adele leaned against the car and smiled knowingly. "You’re connected enough to be acceptable and unconnected enough to be controllable. I’ve never seen anyone more interested in his father's approval. Besides, I despise people like Bessie Potter simply on principle. They clutter up my world." 

"You’re a bitch." 

"No, Doug. You’re my bitch. You might want to remember that." She shoved off the car and moved over to him. Bessie had just walked out of the doors of the restaurant and was trying not to look in their direction. Adele rested her hand on Doug’s chest. "Because I can break you. You’re career as a cop, your future. All in my hands, Douglas." Her hand slipped down and cupped him, rubbing him through the denim. "Literally." 

Her lips pressed to his, licking at the unmoving surface. Doug closed his eyes and stood still, hating her and himself. After a long minute, she pulled away and tapped him on the nose with the tip of her finger. 

"Lighten up, Witter. You’d hate for me to be unhappy. Besides, Bessie is history as far as you’re concerned. You practically accused her of sleeping with half the student body." She grinned happily. "Which was exactly what I wanted you to do." 

~**~

Dawson watched in awe as the drama unfolded before his eyes. Shoving his blond bangs off of his forehead, he quickly looked at his two friends. "Did you see that?" 

"What?" Joey looked up from her English book, the pencil she was chewing on in her mouth. "See what?" 

"That girl. The one with Doug. Is Doug dating her, Pacey?" 

"Why do you always like the blondes?" Joey pulled the pencil from her mouth and frowned. "I think brown-haired girls are prettier. More character." 

"Joey, did you see her?" Dawson shook his head. "Pacey, you saw her, didn’t you? She was pretty enough to be a movie star." 

"And the light dawns," Pacey stated flatly to Joey. "Dawson’s not thinking with his brain, Joey. He’s thinking with his camera." 

Joey slipped off her chair and walked over to the counter. Grabbing a pitcher, she filled it with ice and soda. Carrying it back to the table, she sat back down and poured more for each of them. "Blondes are always the star. What about Winona Ryder? She’s got brown hair. And Sandra Bullock." 

"Does Doug know her?" 

Pacey sighed, blocking Joey’s pathetic attempts to get Dawson to recognize the fact that she was a girl. Grabbing the soda she’d just poured him, he looked squarely at Dawson. "Doug’s taking her to the prom." 

"Wow." 

"And he’s not happy about it." 

"He’s not?" Dawson looked absolutely flabbergasted. "How could he not…? Is he…doesn’t he like girls?" 

A slow, sly smile spread across Pacey’s face. Leave it to Dawson to innocently supply him with the perfect means of hurting his brother, the perfect way of dirtying up the reputation of the clean-cut brother who would forever be his father’s favorite. "No. He doesn’t, actually. I think that’s why Bessie’s so mad at him, too." 

"What do you mean?" Joey narrowed her eyes, not sure if she should fully trust Pacey. 

"Well, I think Bessie likes Doug. And I think she’s upset because when she told him, he told her he doesn’t like girls. He likes boys." 

"Ewww." Joey wrinkled her nose. "That’s…weird. Who in their right mind would like boys?" 

"You like boys," Pacey looked at her pointedly. "Or should I say boy?" 

"Shut up, Pacey. I’d hate to ruin my clothes when I have to kill you. Besides, I’m supposed to like boys. I’m a girl." 

"Well, Doug’s a boy and he likes boys." Pacey’s grin widened, Joey and Dawson’s gazes fixed on him. "Doug’s gay. And he’s going out with that girl to make everyone think that he’s not. But we all know the truth at our house. That’s why he can’t spend time with Bessie anymore, Joey. And why she’s so sad. Because she knows that Doug can’t ever love her. Because…you know, she’s a girl." 

"Who’s a girl?" Bessie asked, walking up to the table. "Pacey, don’t tell me you have a crush on someone?" 

He blushed and stammered, stuttering through a quick "No." He was careful to keep his eyes on the table; worried that they would stray over to Joey in a moment of weakness. He didn’t like her. He hated her. She was annoying and obnoxious. She was a girl. A stupid brown-haired girl, who couldn’t even star in a movie. 

"So, who’s a girl?" 

"Joey." Pacey stated hurriedly. "She’s a girl. And Dawson needs a girl. For his new movie. But he wants a blonde." 

"All the boys want blondes," Joey muttered under her breath. 

"Don’t I know it," Bessie agreed quietly. "Well, what’s your movie about, Dawson? Maybe we can work a brunette in there instead?" 

"It’s…" Dawson shrugged, not knowing what movie they were talking about. "It’s a movie about…a girl. A blonde girl. And she’s got a boyfriend." 

"Sounds promising." 

"And he…he’s got a secret." 

Pacey groaned under his breath. Dawson was being about as original as the makers of an Ernest movie. "He’s in love with a girl. Only she doesn’t know it." Pacey jumped in, hoping to veer the conversation away from Dawson’s obvious retelling of what had just transpired. "But the girl…she’s in love with someone else. Someone who makes it impossible for the guy to tell her he loves her." 

Bessie nodded, wondering if Pacey would ever learn that he gave everything away with his eyes. "Someone like his best friend, maybe?" 

"That’s great!" Dawson smiled at Bessie. "That’s perfect! The guy’s in love with the girl in love with his best friend." 

"That’s a soap opera," Joey said dismissively. "Stuff like that doesn’t happen in real life." 

Bessie ruffled Joey’s hair, ignoring her sister’s protest. "You’d be surprised what happens in real life, little sister." 

~**~

Bessie stood on the edge of the dock outside the restaurant and leaned against the railing. She felt him before she heard him, knew him as if he were part of her. "What would make you think I’d want to see you right now?" 

"I have a few things to say. I know you don’t want to hear them. I know you don’t want to listen. But I need to say them, need you to know what I think and what I feel."

"What you think and feel don’t matter to me, Doug. Only what you do and believe. And I know that those things aren’t what they should be if you love me."

He nodded in the darkness, wondering if she felt him like he felt her. Wondering if this bond they’d forged between them would always be there. "Adele is the mayor’s daughter. The mayor is putting pressure on my Dad’s job."

"And you’re saving the day? How much does prostitution go for these days, Doug? Oh wait. I’d be the one to answer that question, wouldn’t I?"

"I don’t like her, Bessie. I can’t stand her, to be honest. But I have to do what’s best for my family."

"So do I." She turned around and looked at the dark hulk of his figure. "So why don’t you go away and leave my family alone. We’re doing just fine without you. In fact, I’d go so far as to say that I’ll be so much better without you, it’s scary."

"I love you."

"But I’m not good enough for you." She smirked, stepping into the ring of light cast off by one of the lamps that shone over the dock. "I’m not good enough for the number one son of Capeside’s finest. I’m not smart enough, pretty enough or rich enough. I’m just trashy enough to put out the first time you showed any interest whatsoever."

"That’s not what I think of you."

"It’s what your father thinks of me, Doug. And you have to go along with it, because you’re the good boy. Well, actually, what was it he said? It was fine if you used me for sexual pleasure as long as I didn’t get too ambitious and start thinking I was good enough for you."

"Bessie…"

"Well, you know what, Doug? I don’t need that. I don’t need to have someone in my life that discounts me that quickly. And I sure as hell don’t need the son of someone like that who doesn’t have enough balls to stand up for himself. I’m sure, if I were to give you a chance, you’d defend yourself by saying that you have a future to think about, the police force to look forward to. And you’d probably mention that you can’t jeopardize that by upsetting your father." She smiled a sad smile. "Of course, then I’d have to say something about the number one trait a police officer should have would be integrity. And the belief in innocent until proven guilty. But I proved myself guilty that night with you in my bed, didn’t I?"

"I love you."

"No you don’t, Doug." She felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes, but refused to cry. Her voice held the same measured tone, although it grew thicker as the tears clogged her throat. "You’re too scared to love me."

"No."

"Yes. You’re like Daisy…in…in the book. You only think you love me because you can’t have me anymore." She grinned, realizing, as she tasted tears on her lips, that she was crying. "Look, let’s just chalk this up to a learning experience, okay? You tutored me in real life this time, Doug, instead of a fictional one."

He stepped closer and pulled her into his arms. She felt so right there. "Bessie," he smoothed back her hair, searching for her tear-stained lips with his own. He brushed away her tears with his tongue, pushing it past her parted lips into the warmth of her mouth. She sobbed softly, giving into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Doug folded his arms around her waist and lifted her slightly, holding her close as he kissed her, tasted her, fed from her. Her tongue tangled with his, her teeth and lips nibbling and sucking at his. They were a flurry of hands and mouths, hunger and need. Doug slipped his leg between Bessie’s, pulling her even closer.

Bessie’s hands curled into fists and she forced them between their bodies. Shoving hard, she stumbled away from Doug and shook her head. "No. No. I don’t want this."

"We do, we do want this," Doug’s own voice was pleading. "I love you. I need you. You’re my best friend, Bessie and so much more. I can’t stand all of this between us. I don’t know how to live my life without you in it."

She blinked rapidly, forcing the tears back. "Learn."

He struggled for his breath, aching with unsatisfied desire. "I don’t believe the rumors, Bess. I don’t think that way about you. I don’t think you’re beneath me, I don’t think you’re contemptible. All I think about when I think of you is my best friend, who’s been by my side as long as I can remember. All I think about is how much I love you. How good I felt when I was with you."

"Any woman can make you feel good, Doug. Just ask Adele." Her voice broke slightly but she cleared her throat to modulate it. "It just takes practice."

"We didn’t need practice," he reminded her.

"We did, Doug." Her eyes found his and she dug her nails into her palms. "I just got if from someone else. Remember?"

"Bessie? Is everything okay out here?"

Doug turned slowly to see the figure of Bodie, the college student, standing in the doorway. He turned back to Bessie, pieces slowly falling into place in his mind. "Is this him? Is this the guy you *practiced* with?"

"No."

"Right, Bessie. I’m supposed to believe that? And how many other college guys do you have falling at your feet?" He shook his head. His father’s words, Adele’s words all collapsing down on him, taunting him, showing him what an idiot he’d been. "He’s the one, isn’t he Bessie? He’s the reason you don’t give a damn about how I feel…felt."

Bessie couldn’t help but laugh softly, the trace of bitterness thick. "Right. You believe that, Doug. You believe whatever you need to to get through this with your ego and reputation intact."

"I trusted you."

"Yeah. I trusted you too. Guess we both know now how very wrong that was."

~**~

"You’re doing the right thing." 

Doug looked in the mirror in front of him, meeting his father’s eyes. "Am I?" 

"Of course."

"At what cost? I mean, I’ve lost my best friend…heck, maybe my only friend. I’ve alienated my little brother and two of my sisters. But, by God, I’ve made my father proud, haven’t I?"

"You have made me proud, Doug. All your life. That’s how I knew you’d do what needed to be done." John Witter sat down on the edge of his son’s bed. "There’s more going on here than I can tell you, and I know that you’re hurting. But things will all become clear down the line. And you’ll thank me for what I’ve done for you."

"Right now, all I can see that you’ve done for me is force me to date a complete bitch masquerading as a pretentious snob. Oh, and I hate myself. That’s another thing you’ve done for me, I suppose."

"Quit your whining." Mr. Witter stood up and faced Doug. "You’re going to learn that you suck it up. You deal with it. You want to be a cop; you act like a man. Your feelings got hurt? Your precious little girlfriend ended up being the town slut? Well, damn Doug, I’m right sorry. But that’s life. That’s how it works in the real world."

"She’s not…" 

"She’s been seen around town with some black man." 

"He’s a cook at the Ice House." 

"I’m guessing that’s not all he’s doing for the Potters." John Witter shook his head incredulously. "You’re a fool. And you’d better start opening your eyes if you want to survive a day in this business, even in a small town like Capeside. She’s dating a college guy so that she has more access to booze and the liberal minds that translates roughly into free sex." 

"You don’t know her at all." 

"I know enough. Her mom’s real nice and, if she weren’t sick and working like a dog to make ends meet, I’d believe that she’d keep her daughter in check. But she’s got her own problems. I’m just trying to keep Bessie Potter from becoming yours." 

Doug watched his father walk out and hung his head. When did everything get so complex? Turning back to the mirror, he straightened his bow tie and sighed. All his life, he’d figured he’d be standing here with Bessie Potter. Not as his date, necessarily, but he knew that his best friend would be at his side when the big moments came. 

And yet she wasn’t there. And if the Capeside High grapevine was to be trusted, she wasn’t going to be. 

"She’s spending the night at home with Joey and Bodie." Pacey’s voice came from his open doorway. "If you’re wondering." 

"She’s seeing this Bodie guy?" 

"No. They’re just friends." 

"Does she like him?" 

"Does she like him like she liked you, you mean?" 

It was almost strange to hear Pacey’s voice. They hadn’t spoken since that day in the truck. "Yeah. I guess that’s what I mean." 

"Maybe. He treats her nice. He says nice things about her, he compliments her. He’s even helping her with her homework." 

An ache started in Doug’s stomach. "Really?" 

"Yeah. He’s helping me too." 

"I can help you. I used to." 

"Yeah, you did. But you don’t anymore." 

"Pacey…"

"I still don’t like you. You hurt my friends." Pacey’s eyes were solemn in the mirror’s reflection. "And I don’t need anything from you anymore." 

"So why are you here?" 

"Because," his eyes showed something far beyond his years as he looked at his older brother. Doug saw it and winced, afraid that Pacey was learning the wrong lessons far too young. "Because it hurts you to know. And I like that it hurts you." 

"Hurting me doesn’t make you feel any better though, does it? It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with the fact that Dad’s a jerk or that you’re…"

"I’m what?" Pacey drew himself up to his full height, facing Doug defiantly. "I’m what, Doug? The joke of the family? The bane of Dad’s existence? The black sheep you all wish would just go away? No, it doesn’t make it any easier to deal with, but if it causes any of you a moment’s hesitation, then I’m all for it." 

"You’re eleven years old, Pacey. You shouldn’t be like this." 

"I wouldn’t be, but my father hates me for no reason," Pacey smirked. "And I thought my brother was different, but he’s not. He’s just as bad. Just as shallow. Just as unimportant to me." 

"If Dad’s so unimportant, why do you try to impress him?" 

Pacey looked down at the floor. "Because I’m stupid." He looked up at his brother, his blue eyes devoid of any emotion. "At least that’s what you all believe." 

~**~

Bessie leaned against the couch and sighed. She balanced the pencil on her upper lip, head tilted up toward the ceiling as she kept her eyes trained on the television. Bodie sat down on the couch. His leg brushed her shoulder and she forced herself not to react. He noticed her stiffening and held the bowl of popcorn down in front of her. "Popcorn?" 

"Thanks." She dug out a handful and let the pencil fall to the ground. Bodie turned to Joey and made the same offer. She shook her head so he extended the bowl to Dawson. 

"This is a great piece of film," Dawson stated as he took a handful. "Very much like Coppola’s other work, but completely different in texture. He uses a lot of softer colors that you don’t see in his other films. Although it does have the same shadowing and lighting effects used in the Godfather wedding scene." 

"Shh." Bessie gave Dawson a quick look before turning her attention back to the screen. 

"Shouldn’t you just read the book?" 

"Joey! Shh!" Bessie didn’t bother looking at her sister as the movie continued playing. "I’m almost finished with the book, but someone told me that seeing the movie couldn’t hurt." 

"You read the book?" Joey’s voice was laced with disbelief. "You never read the books." 

Bodie wrapped his arm around Joey’s shoulders. "Don’t worry, Jo. I’m going to guess she’ll never do it again." 

Joey looked up at the older man, her dark eyes studying him earnestly. She liked Bodie. He was nice and he didn’t treat her like a kid. And he spent time with Bessie and made her seem…not so sad. "I hope not. I don’t know if I can handle such weird events. Throws my whole world out of whack." 

Bessie smacked her sister on the leg. "Shush!" 

Bodie made a face at Joey and she had to clamp her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles. Dawson slipped off the couch where he was sitting beside her and stretched out on the floor next to her sister. Joey shrugged and leaned back against the arm of the couch and smiled widely at Bodie. 

He grinned and handed over the popcorn. 

Bessie tried to concentrate on the movie. She studied Robert Redford and Mia Farrow with an intensity she’d never given to schoolwork before, but nothing seemed to distract her long enough. The sight of drunken parties and crowds of happy people just reminded her that she wasn’t at the prom. She wasn’t with Doug. She wasn’t…anything. 

She’d lost her best friend and her first boyfriend. Not that he’d lasted long as boyfriend. She closed her eyes briefly and tried to push him out of her mind. But how do you forget the boy you spent almost every day of your life with? How do you stop loving him and move on? 

She jerked as Bodie moved the popcorn bowl next to her. She looked over at his hand, letting her eyes travel up his arm. He was thin, but nicely built. Long fingers, nice hands. His skin was a warm chocolately brown that matched his eyes. She turned her head a little more, looking at his open expression. His eyes always seemed to be smiling, dancing with an inner light. 

"You okay?" He whispered, not wanting to interrupt Dawson’s immersion in the movie experience. 

"Yeah," she nodded, managing a weak smile. "Trying not to think isn’t as easy as you’d think it would be." 

"Really? I try not to think about it." 

She smiled in earnest this time. "I appreciate you spending time with us. Mom and Dad are always a little worried when they have to leave us alone for the weekend. I know they feel better that you’re here." 

"Happy to help out the lovely Potter ladies." He looked over at Joey who was watching Dawson watch the movie. "Have you really read the book?" 

"Yes. And the cliff notes and about seven different essays written by people who obviously understood it a hell of a lot better than I did." 

"And what did they say it was about?" 

"It’s a discourse on the futility of the American dream and its distortion as viewed through the belief that only wealth is necessary." 

"So money can’t buy happiness?" Bodie pretended to look shocked. "I just…my hopes of being a really, really rich chef have just crumbled to the ground." Bessie giggled and he tapped her on the nose. "And what does Bessie Potter think the book means?" 

"I was reading it and all I could see was how sad some people are. I mean, Gatsby spends his whole life trying to acquire things so that he can acquire Daisy. And Daisy is this golden girl who can love him but can’t ever be with him, simply because he’s not the kind of man she needs him to be. She loves what he offers, but she needs more." 

"And Nick?" 

"Nick is just there, telling the story, judging them all. Gatsby’s the hero, simply because he doesn’t let go of his dream, even in the face of Daisy’s rejection. But I don’t think that makes him a hero. You have to move on, keep growing. Otherwise…well, you might as well be dead." 

"So you think Nick is wrong to think Gatsby’s the hero?" 

"I think there aren’t any heroes. No one saves these people from themselves. Even Nick just comments. He doesn’t stand up for anything." 

"You don’t think he stands up by leaving?" 

Bessie grinned suddenly. "Am I writing my paper, or are we discussing my…him?" 

"You tell me." 

She shook her head and stood up. Moving away from the couch, she walked out onto the front porch, closing the door behind her. Bodie gave Joey a quick look before getting up to follow her sister. Joey watched him leave then slid onto the floor beside Dawson. She lay her head in the middle of his back and trained her eyes on the screen. Dawson reached out with one hand and captured hers, holding it tightly, his attention on the movie all the while. 

~**~

Doug closed his eyes as he emptied the little that was left in the bottle into his mouth. The burning sensation had passed a long time ago and now he couldn’t seem to feel anything. "Take it easy, slugger." Adele’s flat eyes met his distastefully. "The night’s still young." 

He didn’t even bother looking at her as he tossed the bottle into the nearby trash bin. "How much longer are you going to subject me to your mindless prattle?" Doug raised an eyebrow, enjoying the brash cockiness the liquor gave him. It was nice not to feel, not to care. 

"Until I’m finished with you." 

"And will that be soon?" He leaned forward, smiling at her as he slurred his words. "Because I’d like it to be soon. You’re boring. And pompous. And…I’m going to be a cop, you know." 

"That’s the rumor." She turned her back to him, watching some of the other couples on the dance floor. 

"Cops, they investigate things. I investigated you; did I tell you that? I found out," he hiccuped and the burning sensation was back. "I found out that you and Bessie were best friends a long time ago. When you were in kindergarten. Even though you both pretend not to know each other." 

"I wouldn’t be friends with trash like that." 

"Especially when trash like that won’t lie for you?" Doug grinned goofily. "When trash like that tells the cops when you steal?" 

"I didn’t steal my mother’s diamond necklace. She did and she blamed it on me." 

"Bessie wouldn’t take the fall for you. Your parents were furious, especially when Mr. Potter threatened to sue them for slander. No one talked to you for months and you got so depressed, your parents sent you away. Is that why you hate her, Louise?" 

"My name is Adele." Her eyes were back on him, emotion finally flaring in their depths. "And Bessie Potter is trailer trash. She couldn’t be lower on the evolutionary scale. Besides, I know what’s going on with her family. Everyone knows except for poor, stupid, little Doug." 

"What do you mean?" He felt the vague stirrings of sobriety and wanted to push them away. Everything was easier when he was drunk. 

"Her father is a criminal. At least, that’s what he’ll be as soon as they catch him. As soon as your father catches him. You see Doug; your father was just trying to save you from being the laughingstock of Capeside. After all, what kind of chance would a police officer have if his girlfriend’s father was a felon?" 

"You’re lying." 

She leaned forward, anger causing her face to flush. "I don’t lie. And so you’d just better think of ways you’re going to thank me for saving your ungrateful ass from losing the only career you might have some hope of succeeding in. And just remember, Doug. My father is holding all the cards." 

He smirked. "I see." He reached across the table and grabbed her hand. Jerking her to her feet, he pulled her out onto the dance floor and wrapped her tightly in his arms. Anger fueled his movements, his actions, but his touch was gentle. "So you’re doing this all for me. Bessie doesn’t figure into it at all?" 

"No." 

"Really? And whatever happens tonight, you have no intention of it getting back to Bessie just to see her face when it does?" 

"Not at all." 

Doug laughed and pushed her away, catching her arm as she stumbled slightly. He pulled her hard against him and forced her to look at him. "Tell me the truth." 

"Yes," she bit the words out, her eyes dark with hatred. "It’s all about Bessie. I hate her. I didn’t see my parents for five years because that little bitch wouldn’t take the fall. She was on her little moral high ground, as if someone like her has any morals. She can’t afford to have morals. You just watch, some day that cheap slut is going to come to someone like me – someone better than her and she’s going to be begging." 

"You want her to beg?" 

"Yeah." 

Doug’s breath was warm on her face as he leaned in even closer. "She’ll never beg from you. Because she’s got more class, more passion, more everything than you’ll ever have." 

"You’re wrong." Adele licked her lips, touching his lips with her tongue due to their closeness. "I have more money. And money, my dearest Douglas, is what makes the world go ‘round. Not class. Not passion. Money. And one day, Bessie Potter is going to need it. And I’m going to have it. And on that day, I’m going to look back at tonight and I’m going to be the one laughing." 

"You’re a bitch." 

"Yeah. And you’re here because your daddy told you to be. What does that make you, Doug?" 

He released her again, not caring this time if she stumbled or fell. He grabbed his jacket off the seat he’d been sitting in, making sure he had a firm grasp on the untouched bottle in his pocket. He walked out of the building; glad to be away from the noxious fumes of the smoke machine and the vitriol Adele was spewing. 

He cracked the seal on the bottle and took a long drink as he leaned back against the building, inhaling the cool night air. The salty scent was headier than any perfume, clearing his head of his thoughts, if not the hazy drunkenness he was beginning to enjoy. 

"You can’t run away from it." 

He turned his head, his eyes narrowed. Adele stood a few feet away, her hands on her hips. He raised the bottle in salute and tossed back another drink. "Can’t run away from what?" 

"Me." 

"I just did. Find your own ride home, Adele. Or Louise. Or whatever you’re going by these days. I’ve got a bottle or two to finish and I can’t think of any possible scenario where you’d be welcome." 

She smiled knowingly and moved to his side. She took the bottle from his hands and took her own drink. She dropped the empty shell, letting it shatter on the ground next to them. Meeting his eyes with her own, she shook her head. "I find that hard to believe." 

Doug was about to respond when her hand settled against his groin, rubbing him through the light material of his tuxedo slacks. "I’m not interested." 

"Really?" 

"Really." 

She slid the zipper down and reached inside, feeling the pliant skin stiffening at her touch. "Again, I’m finding it hard…to believe." 

Doug took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He let his head fall back against the wall, forcing himself to ignore the sensations she was causing. Her hand was massaging him, stroking and caressing the rapidly thickening flesh. "Stop it." 

Adele shook her head and sank to her knees, not caring about her dress. Not caring about anything but having a victory over him, even one that was so easy, so cheap. She unfastened his slacks completely and eased his erection from his boxers, leaning into him so that she could wrap her mouth around him. 

~**~

Bodie sat on the railing, looking out at the creek. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Bessie sitting on the steps of the porch, tearing the petals off a flower. "I’ve had a crush on him since I was five. We met in first grade. We were in different classes in kindergarten, but I saw him and I fell head over heels in puppy love." 

When Bodie didn’t say anything, she continued. "We became friends. His parents would come into the restaurant with the whole family on Saturday nights. We hung out at school, we played sports, we did homework. He was my best friend and I was the world’s biggest tomboy. I don’t think he ever saw me as a girl until this year." 

"Then he’s blind." 

"Well, I think sometimes we’re afraid to see." Bessie stopped pulling on the petals and held the mangled flower in her hand. "When it happened…well, I thought it was a dream come true. I mean, my fantasy was all playing out exactly like I wanted. Except I forgot to take into account all the politics. His father is the Chief of Police. Mine is…not the best father in the world. Doug’s smart and…he’s like the golden boy, you know? He’s the guy parents use to compare bad kids to. ‘Why can’t you be more like Doug Witter?’ I think that was one of the things that bound us together. Nobody liked him because they were constantly getting compared unfavorably to him and no one liked me because I was the one they were all better than. I was the ‘Thank God you’re not like that Potter girl.’" Bessie laughed sadly. "It gave us something in common." 

"Do you love him?" 

"Yeah." She nodded reluctantly. "Don’t you always love your first love? Even if it doesn’t work out?" 

Bodie got off the railing and moved over to sit next to her on the steps. "Maybe especially if it doesn’t work out." 

She leaned against the wood, sighing heavily. "A lot of my life has been defined by what Doug and I meant to each other. It’s kind of strange to have to stop thinking that way." 

"You shouldn’t ever define yourself by the way you are with another person." Bodie picked up some the petals she’d discarded. "Bessie Potter is an amazing girl, from what I’ve seen. I would think you’d be happy to just be her." 

"You don’t know her very well then." Bessie grinned at him. "Bessie Potter is a below-average student, not involved with school activities. She doesn’t have any career prospects, other than working in her parent’s restaurant. She has no ambition, no drive. She’s a waste of space in public schools." 

"Bessie Potter is an honorable woman. She’s loyal to her friends; she defends her sister as if she were her own child. She’s welcoming to new people in town, non-judgmental. She’s funny, she’s warm. She’s beautiful." 

He stopped talking, refusing to face her. Bessie felt the corners of her mouth turn up in an honest smile. "Bodie?" 

He shrugged. "Small towns like this, where everyone’s grown up together? Not always the easiest of places to fit in. You and your family have made it easy for me. You’ve been welcoming, you’ve invited me to do stuff with you." 

"Oh yeah. There’s nothing better than forcing a wayward teenager to do her reading and sitting at home with her and her little sister on prom night to try and keep her from failing school and being depressed." 

"You forgot discussing the intricacies of her love life." Bodie watched the petals fall from his hands. "Say what you want, you’re not going to dissuade me from my original belief. You’re a nice person, Bessie Potter. And I think that Doug Witter is all kinds of foolish for not seeing how very special you are." 

"Did my parents pay you to say this to me?" 

Bodie shook his head, looking at her sadly. "No one would have to pay me to say these kinds of things. You know how…sometimes, you just know things?" 

She nodded, transfixed by the warmth in his eyes. "Ye…yeah." 

"I just know this stuff about you, Bessie." 

"You make me want to believe you." 

He brushed her lips with his thumb, "You make me want to kiss you." He leaned in and suited action to words, letting his lips play over hers until he felt her soft gasp of air. His tongue played on the edges of her mouth, asking entrance. 

Bessie gave herself over to the kiss, closing her eyes, not thinking. Her lips parted for him, her tongue found his touching and tasting. He kissed her softly and undemandingly, pulling back slightly and nuzzling her cheek with his nose. 

She inhaled in surprise. Surprised that the kiss was over, that she’d enjoyed it, that she’d let it happen. She pulled back, her shocked eyes locked on Bodie. "I…"

"Don’t." He shook his head and smiled genuinely. "You’re not ready. And I know that. But I’ll be around. For when you are." 

"I don’t…"

He stood up and headed back into the house. "Write your paper, Bessie. And write what’s in your heart. There’s more than one theme to a story." 

She listened to the door shut behind him and looked down at her hands. The flower she’d been destroying was crushed in her fist; the tangy scent of it suffused into her skin. She tossed the crushed husk away and got to her feet. Her gaze lingered on the creek as she made the short walk back to the door. 

~**~

Doug groaned softly as Adele’s adept mouth moved over him. Her hands grasped the back of his slacks, her fists wrapped around the thin material as she sucked and tasted him. His own hands were buried in her hair, guiding her. He could sense that she hated it, maybe even hated herself for being on her knees in front of him, but he didn’t untangle his hands from the blonde mass. 

Flexing his fingers, he could feel the styled resistance in the strands, and sensed the slight pain it caused her. She kept moving, speeding up as his body started to thrust, growing ever closer to the inevitable conclusion. Tears leaked from her eyes, making paths through her light make-up, her pale skin shimmering in their watery wake. The liquor still warmed him, even moreso that her mouth. 

He hissed quietly as sensation washed through him. Tightening his fingers in her hair, he dug them into her scalp, holding her to him as he climaxed, forcing her to finish what she started. When he was spent, he collapsed back against the wall, releasing her as he did so. 

Adele staggered to her feet and glared at him. "Bastard." 

"You started it." He did up his pants and headed toward his car. He didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to feel sympathy or remorse. Unlocking the passenger door, he grabbed another bottle out of the glove compartment and drank half of it down. "Want some? Better than mouthwash." 

She grabbed it from him and took a healthy swig. Making a face, she threw the bottle at him. Doug dodged, getting out of the way just in time. "You’re an asshole." More tears threatened, but she wouldn’t give into them. 

"You wanted to prove something, Adele. You could do what you thought Bessie did, right? If she could turn me on, surely you’d have no problem doing it, right?" His eyes scraped over her. Her dress was dirty where her knees had pressed it to the alcohol soaked ground and the corsage he’d so carefully pinned over her breast was crushed and flat. "Well guess what? What you did had nothing to do with you." 

"What will Bessie say when she finds out you let me have my way with you in the parking lot, Doug? That you didn’t care enough about her feelings to keep your pants on long enough to get away from a public place?" 

"It just amazes me that you still think this has anything to do with Bessie." Doug walked around to the driver’s side of the car. "Bessie hates me. Doesn’t want to see me ever again. All you did tonight, Adele was prove to anyone who saw us that you have so little self-esteem that you’d go down on me in a parking lot." He unlocked his door and smiled at her flabbergasted expression. "Thanks for the dance." 

"I’m going to destroy you, Douglas Witter." 

"You’re welcome to try. But who are people going to believe, Adele? The Police Chief’s golden boy son or the little thief whose very own parents couldn’t stand her felonious ways enough to keep her around at the tender age of five?" 

~**~

"God damn it!" Pacey’s bedroom door slammed open and his father yanked his sheets off of him. "Get your ass out of bed, boy." 

Blinking rapidly against the hallway light, Pacey sat up. "What’s going on?" 

"Your brother has decided to emulate you." John Witter tossed a pile of clothes at his youngest child and stalked out of the room. "Get dressed. You’re coming with me." 

Pacey sifted through the clothes until he found a full outfit and tugged them on. Stuffing his feet into his tennis shoes, he hurried down the steps to join his father. John was pacing in front of the door, jingling his keys in his hand. As soon as he saw Pacey slide to a stop in front of him, he swung the front door open and started for the car. 

The ride to the police station was filled with a tangible silence. Pacey sat as far from his father as the seat would allow and stared out the window at the dark night. "I expect things like this out of you when you’re his age, but I thought better of him." 

The tension thickened and Pacey folded his arms over his chest. Hurt he didn’t want to feel coursed through him. "Well, isn’t it our job to disappoint you?" 

Mr. Witter cast a quick look at the sullen figure of his son. "No, Pacey. It’s yours. That’s all you’ve ever done and I imagine that’s all you’ll ever do. Now sit up straight and act like a man instead of a child." 

"I am a child." 

"You make it hard to forget." He turned his attention back to the road and drove the rest of the way in silence. Several minutes later they pulled into the police station and he turned off the car. Pacey was out the door before the car came to a complete stop and he watched him run off. 

Shaking his head in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance, John Witter strode into the station and headed straight for the cells. Two of them were full of the typical crowd of drunks and horny teenagers, caught in the act along the golf course or on the road. He ignored them and moved to the last cell, his eyes trained on his oldest son. 

"Is this my punishment?" 

Doug looked up. His eyes were bleary and bloodshot, his face slack with the abuse of alcohol. "What makes you think this has anything to do with you?" 

"Well, as I see it, Douglas, there are only two people who get punished by this sort of behavior. You, because you’re now looking at a possible blight on your perfect record, and me. Because the boy I talked incessantly about as the next new recruit for the Capeside Police Department is sitting here, rotting in one of our luxury cells." 

"Just tell your constituents that I’m learning about law enforcement from both sides of the street." He smirked in his father’s direction. "Your constituents. I never took you for a politician. Sir." 

"Any public service job is a political one. And if this is what you want to do, then you’d better shape up and realize it. I’m not going to put up with this behavior from you, Douglas. It will not be tolerated. I’m real sorry that you got your heart broken. I’m sorry that you lost your best friend. But I’m not sorry you’re learning life’s hard lessons while you still have time to take them to heart." 

"Cut the sanctimonious bullshit, Dad. You have an agenda. Me being with Bessie didn’t fit it." 

Sliding a key into the lock, John Witter joined his son in the cell. "You think I don’t give a shit about what you want, is that it?" Sitting on one of the low benches, he propped his feet up on the one Doug sat on. "You don’t have a single clue as to what’s going on around here. I’m looking out for you. I’m actually looking out for your girlfriend, if you want to know the truth." 

"She’s not my girlfriend. You made sure of that." 

Reaching into his coat pocket, Mr. Witter pulled out a notebook, flipped through several pages then handed it to his son. "Read that." 

Doug skimmed the pages, rubbing his eyes occasionally to keep the swimming letters in focus. Outlined on the small sheets were facts and dates, figures and suspicions, that confirmed what Adele had said at the dance. Bessie’s father was under surveillance. He was apparently cheating on her mother with at least one other woman and he was hanging around with some unsavory men. Drug dealers. 

"Do you have any hard evidence?" 

"Not yet. That’s why no one knows about this. That’s why I kept it from you and why there is no way in hell Pacey can ever know about it. The Potter’s are safe, so long as all three of the girls have no idea what is going on." 

"I had no idea what was going on, sir. Why did it have to…"

"When you go away to school, you’ll understand. You’re going to be in the middle of this soon. It’s going to be going on around you and you’re going to live and breathe Bessie Potter’s father’s whereabouts and dealings." 

"And you think I can’t do that if I’m with Bessie." 

"I know you can’t." John leaned back against the cool, iron bars. "This isn’t a game anymore, Doug. It isn’t pretend. This is the real world and the sooner you realize it and learn to live with it, but better off you’ll be." He watched as Doug stared wordlessly at the floor. "Bessie’s mom is dying, Doug. Nobody knows it yet, but I’ve seen the hospital records. She’s dying and he’s going to go down for what he’s doing. Those girls are going to have to learn to survive on their own." 

"Why would it be so wrong for me to be there for them?" 

"You know why." John leaned forward and touched his son’s knee. Doug raised his eyes to his fathers and sighed. "You can’t be thought of as…involved in any way. If her father goes to jail and you’re around there, hanging around as anything other than an officer of the law, you will look suspicious. You’ll be forever linked to it." 

Doug sighed and ducked his head, not wanting to think, not wanting to listen, and not wanting to hear. "So…can I go home now?" 

"You got pulled over for driving under the influence." John Witter stood up. "A police officer has to appear incorruptible. You can stay the night." 

Doug nodded and resumed staring at the floor. "Right." 

"I’ll pick you up in the morning, Doug." 

"Yes, sir." 

~**~

Joey rubbed her eyes as she pushed the curtain away from the window. She blinked in surprise and opened the door. "Pacey?" 

"Hey, Jo. I’m sorry it’s so late." 

"Is everything okay?" She stepped back so that he could enter, her voice dropping so that she wouldn’t wake anyone up. "Are you okay?" 

"I’m fine." His eyes swept over the room. A bowl still partially full of popcorn sat on the floor, tipped over just enough that a few wispy pieces lay scattered on the floor. Dawson was sleeping next to it, and the soft indentation on the pillow next to his head told Pacey where Joey’d been before he’d knocked. "I’m sorry…again." 

"It’s okay, Pacey. What’s going on?" 

There was a twinge of sadness as his eyes stayed focused on Dawson. As much as his friendship with Dawson and Joey meant to him, he knew their own kind of closeness existed without his presence, probably benefited from his absence. "Is…is Bessie here?" 

"You sure you’re okay?" Joey looked him over, wondering at the aura of pain that seemed to emanate off of him. Pacey was usually so upbeat that it was easy to overlook his melancholy, but tonight the barrier of banter and witticism was gone. She reached out a hand and touched his, wincing as he pulled away from her simple touch. 

"Could you get her, Jo? Please?" 

Joey nodded and backed away from him, her eyes never leaving his. The blue that normally danced with mischief was dark with hurt. She turned at the last minute and slipped into Bessie’s room. Tapping her sister on the shoulder, Joey whispered softly. "Bessie? Bess? Wake up." 

"What is it, Jo?" Bessie’s voice was husky with sleep. "What’s wrong?" 

"It’s Pacey, Bessie. He’s here and he needs to talk to you." 

She pushed the covers off of her and grabbed her robe. Wrapping it around her, she followed Joey out into the living room. Pacey was still standing in the doorway, his arms wrapped around himself as he shivered from the cool night air. "Pacey?" 

He smiled weakly and nodded toward the door. "Can I talk to you outside?" 

"It’s cold out, Pacey. Wouldn’t you rather talk in here?" 

"No. I need…" He looked at Joey and blushed. "I need to see you in private." 

"Okay. Outside it is." She looked back at Joey. "Go back to sleep, Jo." 

"But…"

"Joey." Bessie smiled reassuringly at her sister. "Please?" 

Joey nodded, her gaze locked on Pacey. He raised his eyes to hers and managed a smile. "It’s okay, Jo. I promise." 

"You’d tell me if it wasn’t, right Pacey?" She reached out again and caught his hand, glad when he let her. "You’d tell me if there was something wrong?" 

"Yeah, Jo. I promise. No secrets." 

She nodded and smiled, releasing his hand. Bessie walked out onto the porch with him and leaned back against the house. "So, what’s going on, Pacey?" 

"It’s…it’s about Doug." 

Her smile disappeared. "I see." 

"No. No, you don’t. I…I don’t like him very much anymore, Bessie, but he’s in jail." 

"Jail?" 

"He was drunk, I think. Dad was pissed and I don’t know what he’s going to do. I just…Doug’s like the good kid, you know?" Pacey raised his eyes to meet hers and she frowned when she saw how much his father’s rejection hurt him. "And if he screws this up, it’s…it’s just going to get worse. And I don’t think I can survive it getting worse." 

"What do you want me to do, Pacey?" 

"Could you…could you go see him? Could you just make him all right again?" 

"I don’t have the power to do that, Pacey." 

"You do. You have lots of power over him." He looked toward the window in the door at the brunette who stood just beyond it, trying to pretend she wasn’t watching, wondering. "You maybe don’t know it, but you do." 

"Let me change and I’ll go." She rested her hand on the doorknob and looked at his relieved face. "Why don’t you stay here while I’m gone?" 

"I can’t. I took off. My dad’s probably hunting for me right now." 

"Well, if he’s hunting for you, I think he knows best to look for you here or at Dawson’s. Go inside. Have a little popcorn." 

"I don’t want to intrude…"

"Pacey. Go inside." Bessie opened the door and waited for him to enter. She looked over at Joey’s worried face and shook her head. "It’s okay, Jo. I’m going to go out for a bit, so Pacey’s going to stay here." 

Joey looked over to Pacey who had sat on the couch and pulled the bowl of popcorn onto his lap. He raised one eyebrow and nodded toward the cushion next to him. "You don’t mind me crashing you and Dawson’s private party, do ya, Potter?" 

"It’s not a private party, Pacey." She flopped down next to him and let her hand fall into the bowl of popcorn. She dug around for a handful; not noticing Bessie’s raised eyebrows at her sister’s unknowingly suggestive display. "We’ll let anyone in." 

"Well, I guess I’m safe then." 

"Oh wait," Joey grinned up at him, not wanting him to think she’d actually been *concerned* about him. "Anyone human. Sorry." 

Dawson rolled over and glared at them both. "Do you have something against sleeping?" 

"Only when there are movies to be watched," Pacey nudged his best friend’s foot with his toe. "Bessie’s leaving. We can watch the porno channels." 

"Eeew!" Joey slapped Pacey on the arm and grabbed the remote from his hand. "That’s disgusting Pacey. Besides, I didn’t think you liked *girls*."

"Women, Potter. That’s who star in those sorts of films. Not girls." 

"We’re all the same." 

Pacey’s glance fell to Joey’s flat chest and he snickered. "Not quite yet, you’re not." 

~**~

"And how does stuff like this look on a college transcript? I only ask because I doubt I’ll ever see one." Bessie leaned against the bars of the cell and managed a small smile. Doug looked up and sat up quickly. 

"Hey." 

"Hey." She tilted her head and looked him over. He looked disheveled and unkempt. "Where have you hidden the real Doug? I mean, the Doug Witter I know wouldn’t be caught dead looking like something the cat dragged in, much less be in jail." 

"I had a little external motivation." 

"How was the prom?" 

"Enlightening." He stood up and walked over to her, resting his hands on the bars next to the ones in her grasp. "Why are you here, Bess?" 

"Pacey came by and told me that you’d set yourself off down the road to ruin. Since he doesn’t want to have to live up to you in that regard as well, I thought I’d come by and see if I can help you find the straight and narrow again." 

"I don’t want the straight and narrow. Not if you’re on a different path." 

She looked down at his hands for a long moment before covering them with her own. "Don’t. You’ve been determined to be a cop for as long as I can remember. You were the one who taught me how important it was to tell the truth. You’re the reason Adele hates me so badly." 

"Great. So this is all my own fault?" He stared at their hands, afraid if he looked away that she’d let him go. "Bessie, I…"

"Don’t." She released one of his hands and tilted his chin up so that he was looking at her. "Doug, you and I were really good friends. You meant the world to me. And you still do. But I think, at least for right now, we’re better off finding some other focus. We’re a little self-destructive where the other is concerned." 

"You said you loved me." 

"And I do. I always will." She traced the line of his cheekbone with a gentle touch. "But I can’t be the girlfriend you need and deserve, Doug. And you’ll never be happy defying your father. It goes against everything you’ve ever stood for." 

"I’d do it for you." 

"And you’d probably hate me for it in the long run." Her finger moved to his lips and she rubbed the delicate surface. "I’d much rather have you love what you had of me than hate what you have." 

"I couldn’t hate you." 

"Maybe not, but you can’t love me either." 

"And what…what about our friendship, Bessie? Does that just fall by the wayside?" 

"It’s hard to be friends once you’ve been lovers, Doug. And I don’t think either of us are willing to let go enough to do that just yet." 

"So…what now? We just give up? Move on?" 

"Something like that." 

He watched as she stepped away and the cold, brittleness of sobriety settled around him. "Does this have anything to do with Bodie?" 

"No." She shook her head and met his gaze steadily. "No, it doesn’t." 

"But it could?" 

"It could," she agreed. 

"Well then." He swallowed hard and took a step back, letting more than just the bars separate them. "I…I wish you the best, Potter." 

"Ditto." She smiled; her cheeks stained red with the flush of unshed tears. "And…well, I guess I'll see you around." 

"Right. Goodbye, Bessie." 

"Bye, Doug." She backed away, not ready to leave. Unsure that she ever would be. 

"Hey! Are you rewriting the paper?" 

"The Gatsby one?" She nodded. "Yeah. I think I might pass English after all." 

"Good. I always knew you could." 

~**~

Doug wove his way through the crowd of students gathered outside the cafeteria. Several tables were overflowing with hardbound books. "Picking up your copy, Mr. Witter?" 

He looked over at Mr. Peterson. "Yes sir." 

The English teacher nodded and grabbed a copy of the yearbook off the table. Walking around, he handed it to Doug and fell in step with him as they headed out of the building. "You are, no doubt, wondering as to the state of Miss Potter’s grade, I’m assuming?" 

"Is it that obvious?" 

"You put a lot of work into helping her. I can only imagine that you’d want to see her succeed." 

"I haven’t done that much as of late." Doug flipped through the pages as they walked, looking for faces of his friends. "She’s been doing it all herself." 

"She turned in a very…admirable effort. It was an interesting take on the subtext of the book, very personal." He looked out over the campus as they kept walking. "Nothing like what I was looking for or what I expected." 

Doug stopped and turned his full attention on the teacher. "Faint praise, I think. What kind of grade did she get?" 

"She won’t be joining me for summer school. I’ll leave the answer at that." 

Doug smiled and nodded. "Thank you, sir." 

"Don’t thank me. I gave her an opportunity and she made the most of it. She did the work." 

"Like you said, sir. You gave her the opportunity." He held out his hand, surprising Mr. Peterson. The teacher shook it, his eyes contemplative. 

"I would suggest, having had my own high school experience, that you find some of your friends before they fade away into nothing more than memory and have them sign that." He gestured to the book in Doug’s hands. "There’s nothing worse than looking back at your youth and having very little to remember it by. You’ve got a lifetime to be an adult and a very short while to be a child. Enjoy it while you can." 

"Thank you, sir." 

Peterson shook his head. "Don’t thank me, I told you. I’m suffering from a moment of weakness, no doubt brought on by the toxic fumes that book gives off." 

Doug grinned and headed back to the school. The last class had yet to let out, but several of the students – especially the seniors – had bailed long before. He jogged inside, looking around at the gathered groups and finding some of his friends. 

He spent the better part of an hour with various people, his eyes always on the lookout for her. They hadn’t seen each other, except in class, since the night of the prom and he missed her. He knew, for his own sake and for hers that they needed to stay away from each other. He needed to stay away from her, from the temptation

"Well, I’m surprised you’re not joined at the hip with your little girlfriend." Adele’s voice brought his mind back to the cafeteria. He gave her a scathing look and turned away. "Although I would imagine your father told you that I wasn’t lying that night. So you must be being the good, dutiful son and staying away from her." 

"I’m staying away from you," Doug stated. "That’s good enough." 

Adele smirked. "You’ll come around." 

Doug grinned at her and leaned closer, inviting her in to his whispered words. "You keep thinking that." 

She walked away without a backward glance as the final bell rang. There was still graduation to get through, but for the most part, his high school experience was over. He stopped by his locker on his way out, dropping the yearbook off. He’d pick it up after graduation, maybe have a few more people sign it. 

Maybe find her and ask her to sign it. 

He wondered briefly if they’d have anything to say. 

~**~

_"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into  
the past." - The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald_

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written 5-02-01


End file.
